Light, ever the symbol of that which is good and wholesome; purveying, with stalwart benevolence, a sense of comfort, familiarity and serenity, twists upon itself revealing unforeseen depths of perversion and depravity when filtered through the tainted stain of glass.
Controlled Dissonance is John Ingram (the musician, not to be confused with the Jesuit martyr or the CEO of Ingram Industries), and the moniker aptly describes the musical approach of “Glass Tainted Stain”. Although the album’s visual component consists of stained-glass church windows, the auditory element is of a decidedly industrial hue, featuring cavernous echoes, electric drones, motorized rumbles and groans of indeterminate nature, and an overarching feeling of claustrophobic dread. Despite the somewhat short total run-time, the album still manages to gradually build up dramatic tension until it virtually erupts with barely restrained force towards the end of the final track.